


Family is not about blood

by Fancy_Dragonqueen



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Accidental parents, Accidents, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forgetting to eat, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Leonard Snart Lives, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Tears, discussion of etiquette, mick is a motherhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen
Summary: When did they adopt a bunch of children again?For the wonderful prompt: "Leonard and Mick dealing with being pseudo parents to their 'family' (Legends, Rogues or any combination works)"
Relationships: Barry Allen/Mark Mardon, Hartley Rathaway/Axel Walker, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Comments: 13
Kudos: 139
Collections: Coldwave Winter Holiday Exchange 2019





	1. The Rogues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvilSlicey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilSlicey/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and thank you for your wonderful prompts! I hope you like what I did with it :)
> 
> If I forgot tags... please tell me @_@  
> For minors: almost every chapter has a hint at smut or in chapter four even a light bondage session. Read on own risk
> 
> also thank you so much [Araydre](http://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/pseuds/araydre) for editing <3

A lot of people wouldn’t think about Len being a cuddler.

He wasn’t.

Mick was the cuddler, and Len was the one sometimes initiating it so that Mick wouldn’t feel ashamed.

Mick smiled at him with this knowing twinkle in his eyes, dragging him closer to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Nice work today, boss.”

Len snorted. Of course, Mick had loved this heist. He had been able to burn down a whole warehouse belonging to the Santini’s. No one on their side had come to harm, and they got away with not only cementing their territory, but also a massive load of money.

They hadn’t been able to enjoy a sleep-in, not with Len being anxious and too focused on planning the heist.

Mick knew that Len wouldn’t be able to relax until they had finished the job. Until everyone was safe again, and they had succeeded. (This time, not even the Flash had tried to stop them. Mick suspected that the boy was glad that they reined in the families so that he could focus on his day job and the Metas running wild. Not that he was supposed to know that Barry Allen was the Flash. But seriously. Worst disguise ever.)

“Can’t believe Mardon went on a date instead.”

Mick nudged Len’s shoulder, slowly turning on the bed, offering Len his back. Len didn’t like to be held, sometimes he would allow it, but most of the time it was Mick that was the little spoon. And he loved every second of it. Mick tried to suppress his grin when he felt a cold arm sneaking around his belly, a long leg over his hips.

The man was such a Grinch when it came to accepting that he liked to snuggle with Mick.

He closed his eyes, listening to the soft breaths when suddenly someone shut a cabinet door with force. Damn. He knew he should have dragged Lenny to another safe house to be alone.

Mick could feel the arms around him going tense, listening to the yelling that occurred downstairs.

Living with the Rogues was sometimes like herding a bunch of kindergarteners or wild cats on catnip. As little as he wanted to deal with whatever they were fighting about again, he wanted Len to do it even less. Snuggling closer and burying his head far enough underneath the blanket that he was almost hidden, he allowed himself to smile.

It was just too cute how grumpy and cuddly the man was getting when he had completed his job. All the planning left him tired and hungry, as he always forgot to eat and sleep during preparation. Mick had long stopped trying to make him care for himself. It was easier to shove some things within his reach, sandwiches and energy bars getting eaten without acknowledgment, following only Len’s instincts to stuff them into his mouth and eat them up.

Another loud bang, this time it sounded like something was bursting, glass shattering, and a female screaming. Len was out of the bed in a second, the Cold Gun in his hand. There was more yelling downstairs, louder this time, more people than before. Good thing that Len always wore clothes when they went to bed in a house shared with other people, while Mick only bothered to grab boxer shorts.

Len sent him a frown, his face full-on set in his Captain Cold persona, the tension in every part of his body language. Mick was filled with fury, not because there might be a possible threat, mostly because he wanted his boss to be able to rest finally. When they were ready to go, he would grab Len and drag him to their own house, making sure that Len got at least a good 8-hour sleep, even if he needed to chain him to the bed. Mick grabbed his gun and followed him without hesitation.

What greeted them downstairs wasn’t a fight.

It was the Rogues suddenly not yelling anymore, but looking sheepishly at them.

The kitchen destroyed.

Bivolo had flour and what seemed to be batter in his hair and on his face. Axel was holding a bowl and a spoon in his hands, clearly, the one to have thrown the dough at Bivolo.

Mardon seemed to be back from his date, a hickey on his neck and fussing over Shawna who had a cut on her hand and what looked like a first-degree burn. Hartley was trying to save the burning bacon, almost set the whole thing on fire when the pan got too hot and nearly threw it into the dishwater. Len reacted fast enough to ice it, not just the pan, but the water also.

Thank god, Lisa was nowhere to be seen. Then again, maybe none of this would have happened when she had been there.

“What,” Len started to talk, his voice cold like.  _ Ice _ . Not that Mick would say that out loud. The pun would ruin the mood.

“You have three seconds to explain.”

The else I will ice you all was heavily implied when Len waved with his Cold Gun.

There was a moment of silence before Shawna looked at him with misty eyes.

“We wanted to make breakfast… You worked so hard, and we wanted to make a nice surprise.”

The kitchen was silent, and Mick wasn’t able to read Len’s face while standing behind him. The only thing he could see was the tension slowly leaving his shoulders, then the rest of the body before the Cold Gun found its way to a counter that wasn’t occupied by wreckage. Len took a step forward but stopped when his gaze landed on the sad remains of the last of their glasses. They already hadn’t had that many left anymore after almost everyone had been too clumsy, drunk or deep in thoughts at some point.

“Leave it. You can tidy up the kitchen when we get back. Fetch some clothes and Mardon, take care of Shawna. It doesn’t look deep, but we don’t want it to get infected. Speed up. We’re eating pancakes in the new diner around the corner. My treat.”

With that he turned, stomping up the stairs and into their room, ignoring the cheers of the Rogues who had waited to cheer the second he closed the door behind Mick and himself.

Len rolled his eyes.

“I’m not paid enough for that.” He grumbled and swayed a bit on his feet when he tried to change into street clothes. Mick grabbed him by the hip and turned him to steal a kiss.

“When we have something in your stomach we take the car and I drive us home. You need to sleep.” Another kiss, this time on the wrinkles on Len’s forehead.

“No complaints. You get them what they want and I will get what I want. And that is you and me in our bed. Alone.”

There was a lazy grin on his boss’s face and this time it was Mick’s turn to roll his eyes. He didn’t want him like that. At least not when he couldn’t be sure that Len wouldn’t just pass out from exhaustion. Okay, maybe he wanted him like that too.

But first, they needed to survive breakfast with their Rogues.

Hopefully, the dinner had insurance.


	2. Hartley and Axel

  
  


It was scarily quiet in the house.

Mick loved quiet. He used the time to focus on the things he called his hobbies, the things almost no one knew about. And those that knew didn’t talk about it.

It was not that he wasn’t proud of being a writer. It was more that he wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge it in front of other people. Bad enough that Len kept teasing him and the Green Arrow had demanded an autograph when they last pulled off a heist. How on Earth the man knew his secret, Mick didn’t know.

No. Mick loved the quiet because he could concentrate. Could think.

But this.

This was a quiet he didn’t like.

A quiet that screamed of disaster. Of chaos.

A quiet that was only worse since he knew what had happened.

Mick groaned and laid his glasses onto the table, massaging the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. He knew that he shouldn’t interfere, but he also knew that the kids wouldn’t solve the problem on their own. Both too thickheaded to see that they cared for each other. Too proud to apologize and talk to each other.

Too dumb to recognize that they would just hurt each other if they stayed apart like that. (He would know. He and Len were masters in avoiding each other.)

He would have none of that.

With a growl, Mick got up, almost toppling over his chair, before opening the door with force.

“Well, well, well. I think you need to chill out a bit, my hotheaded friend.”

Sometimes Mick really wanted to punch something.

And sometimes this something was his best friend, aka partner in crime, aka husband.

“You.” Mick didn’t even think about responding to the puns. “You will talk to them.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Mick really did get why people wanted to hit Snart. His drawl might be hot sometimes, but when it was pointed at oneself, it was just annoying. At least when you knew that Leonard Snart was more bark than bite most of the time. Fucking heart of gold, his partner.

“You’re the boss, so it’s your job to make them think straight again.”

Mick almost groaned when he saw the widening of Len’s smirk.

“I think that ship already sailed.”

Of course, he would take that opening. Mick growled, and Len started to raise his hands in an offering of peace.

“Easy, Mick. I’ll take Axel, you talk to Hart.”

Snart had the excellent idea to vanish before Mick could object. Damn him. It was Snart’s job and not his to play babysitter.

Even so, he got up from his place behind the typewriter and left it unattended. No one in their right mind would break into their room. With another sigh, he closed the door and went looking for the young engineer. He would be in his workshop, creating things maniacally until the worst of his pain faded. It was a coping mechanism and a damn good one, even if it was one that Len didn’t approve of. Mostly because Hart destroyed the things afterward, always too dangerous, too much firepower behind them. Sometimes when Mick was lucky, Hart would show him what the creation would have done. It was beautiful most of the time, and Mick would have loved to keep most of it, but he didn’t like the heartbreak in Hartley’s eyes when he used them in action. He gladly helped to destroy the devices after seeing that.

The boy wasn’t in his workshop.

Not a good sign.

Mick sighed and went to Hartley’s bedroom. He opened the door carefully, knowing that he was accepted in the room whatever happened, except when Hart told him explicitly to stay out. Which only had happened twice.

The curtains were shut, and the room dark but Mick could make out enough, knew enough to know where the boy was hiding. He didn’t hide his steps, didn’t he try to be quieter. He knew that Hartley didn’t like that. That he loved to know who was approaching him. He once had told Mick that he always knew it was him because he sounded like a loud and intimidating giant, chasing away whatever was scaring him.

And deep down, the boy was so scared it hurt Mick to not be able to burn the kids’ parents for him.

Without talking, he flopped down to the floor, leaning against the wall of the big wardrobe. Whenever it got really, really bad, or he had an encounter with his parents or something that reminded him of the time with them, and the workshop didn’t help, Hart would hide in it, legs drawn up and hands over his ears, head resting on his knees while he tried to cry as silently as possible.

Mick could hear the muffled sobs. It hurt him as bad as it hurt when he found Len mourning. He was glad that Hart wasn’t as quiet as he wanted to be. Sometimes it scared him how easily Len managed to shove away his feelings, to bury them deep inside. Hartley hurting wasn’t good; didn’t feel right, but he still felt slightly relieved because he knew that the kid was strong. Would let himself be helped, desperate for love. Somehow he had latched onto Len and him as a strange and not very good substitute for his parents.

Mick leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes to wait until Hartley was ready to talk.

It didn’t take long.

The door squeaked and opened a tiniest bit. Mick couldn’t see it, his eyes still closed but he knew.

“He hates me.”

The words were full of sorrow, hopelessness, and pain. They were rough from crying, and it took all of his willpower not to lean forward and drag Hartley into his arms. He would probably do it, but not yet. First, he wanted to hear as much as possible.

“He forgot.”

Ah.

The kids anniversary.

They were together for a year now. Mick was glad that both of them had found someone for themselves  and honestly, he thought they were making each other better. . They were a strange pair, but right for each other. Hartley had managed to loosen up, and Axel had become calmer, even took medication, which helped a huge deal.

Of course, it wasn’t easy for either of them, but Mick was sure that they would be able to manage their relationship just fine. If only they talked with each other.

Not that he and Len would do that. But they had been together since eons and knew what was going on with the other one. It was different. (It wasn’t. If someone asked Lisa, she would roll her eyes and tell them to get their heads out of their asses. But no one asked her about their love life.)

“He forgot just like them. It’s only important when one can make a great show out of it.” The bitterness in his voice was clear, and there was nothing Mick could burn down to make it go away.

“And when I talked to him about it? He told me that I shouldn’t care about them. That I’m stupid to still think about making  _ them  _ happy.”

There was a rustle in the wardrobe and another sob, quieter but still so full of pain that Mick opened his eyes and then more of the door. He didn’t need to reach into the space for Hartley to fall into his arms, clinging to him and crying for real without hesitation this time.

“I… I don’t. M, not stupid. Am I stupid for still…. Still loving them?”

“Sh…. it’s okay.”

Mick embraced him, wondering why it felt as if Hart was even smaller than he usually was. Kid sure didn’t eat enough.

“Boy’s not talking about you and your parents. It’s his parents.”

Mick just hoped that Hart would understand, but he wasn’t able to explain further. A crying Axel was running into the room, tackling Hart out of Mick’s arms. 

“I’m so sorry! I love you! I’m an idiot!”

Mick smiled when Hartley tearfully confirmed it, clinging to Axel and at the same time hitting his shoulder before melting into the embrace.

Cute.

After extricating himself from the tangle of limbs, he noticed the smug looking leader of their bunch and he rolled his eyes when Len wiggled his eyebrows and begged him to come closer.

Hart and Axel were murmuring to each other and starting to kiss, and damn wasn’t it nice to be young and able to make up that fast?

Him and Len were always explosive when they fought or they would plain ignore each other for weeks.

They lingered for a few more seconds in the doorway to watch the two young adults before giving them privacy and closing the door. Len leaned into his side, almost purring and looking up at him with half closed eyes.

“Don’t I get a reward now?”

For a moment he wanted to tell him to shove it somewhere, but Len in a good mood was always a sight to behold, and he wouldn’t say no to his willing partner in an obvious playful mood.

And he was only a man and therefore weak. Obviously. With a huff he grabbed Len by the hip and threw him over his shoulder, grinning through the surprised shriek his fearsome leader gave.

It was hours later when they lay in bed, both happy and sated and relaxed when suddenly the door was thrown open. They had heard the youngsters drunkenly trying to be quiet and shushing each other with lots of giggling, so neither of them were surprised by the sudden visit.

Thank god they were just dozing at that point.

“Ohhhhh… They are  _ nakid. _ ”

Hartley snorted and needed to support himself on the doorframe.

“Naked. It’s called naked. And yesss.” They stopped talking as if they had forgotten why exactly they wanted to be here or wanted to say, when Axel started to giggle again.

“Thanks boss! For getting laid again.”

Hartley hit him on the back of his head, or at least tried to and instead punched the air.

“Owww. That hurt. Gonna kiss it better?”

Hartley looked rather shocked and started to fuss over his clearly not hurt boyfriend. They stopped paying attention to Mick and Len and stumbled further into the house, retreating to their own room hopefully. The lack of screaming at least indicated that it was their room, or an unoccupied one.

Mick sighed in amusement.

“This is why we don’t have children.”

Adoption had never been discussed between them, but it wasn’t necessary either.

“And pray tell, what do you call the kids we live with? Cacti?”

Mick laughed when a pillow hit him right in the face.


	3. Barry Allen

He hadn’t lied at the Ferris Air.

Leonard Snart was a Liar, a Thief, and a Criminal. All of those with capital letters because that was what defined him. It was in his very being, seared into his soul. But he was also a man of his word when he wanted to be. Even if he wasn’t the same man anymore, he had grown softer around the edges. Striking a no killing deal with the kid had been fun and the perfect excuse to not get more blood on his hands. It was fascinating.

Instead of looking at him as soft or weak, the criminal underworld had started to fear him more. The rogues following his lead, intimidated by the fact that he was able to carve out a deal with the Flash instead of getting arrested. Not that it had been that difficult. The kid was a giant puppy with superpowers, unable to hide his joy when he thought he had played Leonard.

Without his powers and thrown into a fight, he would be dead within seconds.

Be it as it may, he was a man of his word, so he hadn’t told anyone, not even Mick about Scarlet’s little secret. Fun fact though, his partner was far from dumb. He was the opposite, in fact.

“Stupid kid,” Mick growled from the other side of the couch where they were watching the news about a meta wreaking havoc. It was a telekinetic, throwing the kid around like a ragdoll.

Len could almost feel the bruises forming and a few ribs breaking.

“He sure is. Makes our job easier.”

Mick huffed in what Len had named his you-can’t-bullshit-me-tone.

“Kid’s worse than you.”

“And why is that?”

Len hated how casually Mick took a swig of his beer and grinned at him like a shark, like he knew something Len didn’t. Especially when his partner knew precisely how much Len liked to be compared to others. Compared to heroes.

Especially when he had no clue what Mick was trying to tell him. He was nothing like the Flash. He was neither a hero nor painfully naive. And if he was an animal, then preferably a cat than a lovesick puppy.

Glaring at Mick only gained him another slow sip of his beer, and a poke between his ribs.

“Eating like a fucking sparrow. Or a teenager during holidays alone. At least that explains why the kid looks like jailbait.”

Len knew that Mick was only partly right there. The kid did eat more than he himself did, yet not nearly enough for his ridiculous metabolism to be satisfied. The news changed, and Len dismissed the short burst of worry in his gut. The kid would be fine.

They already had enough children to worry about. Adding heroes now wasn’t something he needed.

The front door banged open, then closed in the same angry manner, leaving Len in a state of alert, born from the years living with Lewis, living on the run.

Mick’s hand found his ankle and pressed soothingly into it, not touching his skin directly, but the socks he was wearing. Mick knew better than to touch him directly in a situation like this.

They watched Mardon walk into their living room in long strides, lightning sparking at his fingertips and an expression livid enough to tase someone. His expression changed into a sheepish look when he sunk into his favorite chair, indicating with a short shake of his head that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Great.

He wasn’t one for touchy feelings; hence, another reason why he was glad Barry wasn’t one of his Rogues. Pretty sure the puppy would want to talk about every feeling he encountered.

The pressure on his ankle increased, and he could practically feel his partner shaking with silent laughter, even if his face was still grim so as not to anger the Weather meta further.

Len leaned back into the touch and slowly relaxed.

They had a heist to execute, now that the Flash would be out of commission for the night was the right time to strike.

Just him and Mick.

Like good old times.

***

“No, Mick. Mick! I said no. Oh for fucks sake.”

Len prided himself that he seldom cursed. This situation was one of the few times he made an exception.

Mick was staring him down, unmoving, a crumpled, unconscious, young adult in his arms. Refusing to leave the dumb and reckless  _ child _ to the mercy of whoever would find him. 

“Finders keepers doesn’t include people, Mick.”

Mick still didn’t move.

Not the tiniest bit.

Len could practically  _ feel  _ the moment his defenses crumbled, the moment Mick knew he had won, and it took all of his carefully schooled willpower to not punch the Arsonist in his fucking handsome smiling face.

Mick could consider himself lucky that Len couldn’t refuse a face like that.

“One night, Mick. And he’s yours to take care of.”

Maybe Mick would have taken him more seriously if he hadn’t actually waited for Mick to strap in the kid with a seatbelt, helped to sneak him into the house and into the empty living room.

They couldn’t leave him like that.

But taking off his cowl would break their arrangement. Len stared at the Speedster, still out cold and so damn vulnerable that it reminded him of his sister. When she was younger and still had the innocence to be vulnerable. 

He was just about to take him to their bedroom to hide him from the other Rogues, when Mick emerged with clothes in his arms.

“I wanted to give him Hart’s clothes, they have the same height, but I think Axel would try to kill him for that. So I borrowed Mark’s.”

Without further explanation, he reached out for the cowl only to be stopped by Len.

“Please. Barry Allen being the Flash is the worst hidden secret in Central City.”

It was. It clearly was, but some people really didn’t know. Some people were stupid and blind.

Mick wasn’t one of them.

Len shrugged his shoulders helplessly and sat down next to the speedster after they managed to dress him properly. The kid had dark bags underneath his eyes and he looked exhausted.

Mick muttered something about cooking some food and the moment he was gone Len carefully touched Barry’s hair, gently scratching his scalp. The kid whined quietly, his head turning like a cat that wanted scritches at the exact right places and he couldn’t help but smile.

When he got back from the kitchen, Mick thankfully didn’t comment on it, just looked smug like hell and sat with them on the couch, waiting for the Speedster to wake up.

Confused, sleepdrived Sleepster was adorable.

Maybe they would keep him a day longer, just to be sure that he managed to eat enough. The amount of food he was able to shove into his face, all the while moaning and talking about the Fast Food and Pizza he normally got, was enough for Mick and Len to decide that they would kidnap the Flash more often in the future. He clearly couldn’t look after himself.

A huge amount of food and a healthy nap later, Barry Allen looked like he was born anew and was ready to head home. They had promised to sneak his uniform back to him, and he trusted them with it. Stupid kid.

They watched him open the door and Len froze when he saw Mark Mardon standing on the other side of the door, key in hand, staring at Barry.

There was a slight blush on the man’s face when he recognized the clothes.

“Are those… mine?”

before they were able to come up with lie, Barry smiled.

“I felt a bit sick and Lenny and Mick brought me here. My clothes were ruined so they borrowed something. I can bring it back?”

Mardon frowned.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Well, I have work and my foster family will make themselves sick with worry and I don’t want them to.”

Mark’s smile was oddly sweet and he only had eyes for the young man in front of him. Which was pretty strange as he hadn't deemed Mark as the cheating type but maybe they had an open relationship?

“I’ll drive you home. This neighborhood isn’t the best and the Flash can’t be everywhere to save a cute guy.”

Mick looked almost disappointed when they left.

At least Mardon was in a better mood now that he had a boyfriend. Normally he would have maimed a stranger wearing his clothes, instead of bringing the cute kid back to his home.

Certainly weird, but nice to know that the man could have an agreeable mood too. They sure as hell wouldn’t interfere. As long as he didn’t kill anyone.

  
  



	4. Mark Mardon

If there was one thing Leonard Snart prided himself on, it wouldn’t be his thieving skills. Of course those would be something he’d brag about to someone unimportant.

Someone he didn’t trust.

There were few people he respected and even fewer he trusted.

No.

The thing he really was proud of wasn’t his acting skills, the way he could predict almost every possible and impossible outcome, it wasn’t his wit or his looks.

It was the way he saw real beauty in something that most people would scoff at.

If there was a thing like reincarnation he would have been the guy or girl (one could never trust that history hadn’t been changed to fit the social standards of that time), that had discovered the raw beauty of a diamond.

Len didn’t know where he got it from, certainly not their father, but he’d had it since he was a little child.

Lewis had been disgusted by little baby Lisa while Len had seen the most beautiful and precious human being he would ever encounter.

It had been the same with Mick. Mick that most people took in with a single glance and deemed a brainless brute.

Len on the other hand had seen the rough beauty in Mick Rory way before they got into more than just their partners in crime dynamic.

The first time had been in Juvie and many more times had followed.

Of course he had run away the moment he had recognised that another person besides Lisa had managed to warm his stone cold heart. He was still ashamed of himself when he thought about the one time, the worst time he had abandoned his friend.

Of course it hadn’t been just his fault.

Mick’s love of fire was almost as great as his dedication to Len, and had almost cost him his life more than once.

The scars were a lifelong reminder.

Yet they couldn’t lessen his beauty, they underlined it, like the way gold embraced a diamond to show off their combined greatness.

“Quit that shit, boss.”

Mick’s gruff, yet fond voice dragged him out of his thoughts, out of the past and into the present.

When had he knelt next to Mick?

His fingers were still frozen where they had touched the scars and his eyes lingered there for another second. Len knew that Mick hated to be complemented with words. Hated to be vulnerable.

And yet here he was.

Bound with red silken ropes, not for the feeling of being bound, but for Len’s pleasure.

For him to adore. To see. To prove it would suffice.

And to a certain degree, to plan their next session.

Mick was awfully patient with him there, knowing full well that Len wouldn’t feel comfortable if they hadn’t trained for the actual thing.

Everything needed to be perfect.

Of course Mick never knew what exactly they were doing when it came to it.

Len planned for everything to be a surprise, and even if Mick knew a part of everything already, it was still carefully stretched over the years they knew each other, so that he never knew if the next pattern would be something from last week or three years prior.

It also helped that some things Len tried out for himself, knowing full well what Mick enjoyed and what he didn’t, and even if Len didn’t exactly like the same kinks, he would still try them out to surprise his partner.

Two weeks before today they had had the last session, including a bondagepattern Len had learned from Sara, and yes, he even asked other people to help him with it. Not openly of course. The gag had been a surprise as well as the machine that Mick hadn’t known about before. All in all it had been a full success. It had been delicious. A masterpiece.

There was a hard knock at the door, half a second before said door was thrown open.

Len _ froze _ .

He had still been kneeling next to Mick, but in an instant he was on his feet.

Mardon  _ stormed  _ into the room. His expression morphed from despair to relief, followed by excitement and hope.

“Thank god. You’re experienced in that kind of thing.”

Obviously, Mardon didn’t have an ounce of self preservation or he would have fled the room immediately. Instead, he just kept walking and ignored the potential death threat hanging over his head. Flopping onto their bed, as if he belonged there.

“So how’s this happening? Like. Do you need to…” Mark scrunched his nose in confusion. All in all, he didn’t look that happy, more defeated and with a hint of panic badly concealed in his eyes. Len would have felt sorry for the man. In any other situation but this.

“I mean hypothetically. If I have someone that kinda likes this kind of  _ thing _ .”

He even had the nerve to make some kind of air-quotes with his fingers at the last word. Len would have seriously considered maiming him for intruding, but now it seemed as if Mardon really had a death wish.

Mick leaned his head against Len’s leg and the warm body, the familiar weight managed to calm him down a bit. His hand instantly found its way onto his partners neck, stroking the thick muscles carefully.

“First thing, witch. ‘S you don’t interrupt a session. If this was one.”

Mardon didn’t bitch about Mick’s witch comment, he deflated and looked more miserable than before _if that was even possible_. Len could feel Mick’s muscles tightening underneath his fingers. The urge to _protect_ those he called his, without even knowing what had happened, was even stronger in Mick than in Len.

Mick on the other hand was right. This wasn’t a session. A hint for him, not for Mardon, who seemed clueless.

“What’s a session?”

God. How could he have gotten so old without knowing the most fundamental things?

Only his instincts made Len back away from Mick who had turned his head to freaking try to  _ bite _ him.

“What the hell, Mick?”

Mardon looked panicked and his face was oddly white.

“Do you need to hurt him now?”

It was fascinating how sick the man looked, how utterly uncomfortable with the whole situation, that was technically his own fault. It was also quite nice that he seemed to care enough for Mick to not want him to get hurt.

“Nah. This only a rehearsal.”

Len refused to roll his eyes, all the while watching the Weather Wizard. He could practically hear the gears in the man’s head turning, watched the nervous flick of Mark’s tongue to wet his lips. Since he managed to look lost enough for Len’s anger to cool down, he sighed and relaxed a bit more. It was subtle, but he could see Mick relaxing too, now that his partner wasn’t gearing up for breaking the ropes and rescuing Mardon anymore. And they called him the drama queen.

“I don’t want to hurt him. What if it’s a dealbreaker? What if he only wants me to punish him? I mean. I know he heals fast but… And I already hurt him before, but that was something else. That was before we got together!”

His voice trailed into nothing while the dots connected rapidly in Len’s brain.

The hickeys.

Mardon’s mood when the Flash had been used as a punching bag.

The blush and the protective behavior when he insisted to drive the kid home, or at least somewhere safe where he could take the bus.

Len almost groaned in frustration. Of. Fucking. Course.

That was way too much information about his nemesis. Mick leaned back against his legs again, shaking from barely contained laughter.

“Communication.” Len drawled. “Communication is the key. You need to talk to the kid. Hard limits, soft limits. Make a contract. There might be things he’s comfortable with, but you’re not. Either you compromise and try it out with both parties agreeing to stop the instant it gets uncomfortable, or not try it at all.”

“Always hit or miss with new kinks.” Mick chimed in.

Len nodded. “Most important are safewords. Start with traffic lights. Green is all good, yellow’s getting into uncomfortable and red’s a hard stop.”

Mardon looked eager like a schoolboy getting his first lessons in a subject he really liked. Len wouldn’t be surprised to see a notebook in his hands.

“Do not assume he must like a thing because he likes something similar.”

“Safewords are for both sides.”

Yeah. Good of Mick to mention, as Len himself was bad with admitting he didn’t want to continue something. Mick had safeworded out of it and confronted as well as comforted Len more than once. There were just some things he couldn’t do, would always be reminded of his dad, and that was just the fastest way to kill the mood. When they were younger and dumber they had tried out almost everything. They had learned the hard way to talk to each other. Easier to talk about kinks than feelings.

Mardon looked as if he wanted to raise his hand to ask a question. His right one was already twitching. Barry and him really deserved each other.

“No. We won’t participate or listen in on the contract thing.”

The hand found its way back into his lap and he tried not to look too defeated.

“We’ll provide you with a basic contract. When’s your boy  _ coming _ ?”

Len smirked when Mardon blushed. “The next time you’ll see each other, I mean.” 

The doorbell rang the moment Mark opened his mouth. Of course. Len made a big show about closing his eyes, sighing and massaging the bridge of his nose. At least Mardon was looking sheepish now.

“Why do I even ask?”

“Come by later,” Mick interrupted, stretching his legs and carefully folding the ropes that he freed himself from. “Both of you.”

Len raised both his eyebrows and looked down at Mick who only smiled back in a manner that told Len that he had a plan.

“Now go!”

It didn’t even take Mick’s growl for Mardon to jump from the bed and run towards the door, not wanting to leave his boy waiting much longer.

“You know that you just offered a grown adult and my nemesis some hardcore Sex-Ed?”

He could deny it all he wanted, but he loved how Mick’s booming laughter could be heard throughout the whole house. Especially since he knew the fond look in his lovers eyes was reserved for all the kids that needed help somewhere. All  _ their _ kids.

“I know that we both offered to help our kiddos.”

Len groaned. He  _ had _ offered to give Mardon a contract. Well, technically two contracts.

“We really should plan the next heist, and if the Flash spoils it we’re telling him it’s for damage control. We really need to soundproof Mark’s room before they start whatever they want to do.”

He loved how Mick started to grin lazily before he got up to close the door, then came back to him. At him. Walking in slow precise steps, looking more predator than prey he had been a few minutes before.

“How about we use the time until they knock to play around for a bit. Will probably teach them some manners to wait till one answers when you knock. There are some finished contracts in my drawer. Figured we would need them for Axel and Hart, but well. Now how about you and me, less clothes?”

Len smirked. That they could do.

“Green. Definitely green.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be that I will continue this as a series, but I am not sure yet :D I just couldn't resist to put up a bit more ;)


End file.
